


Don't Tell Me You Love Him

by ellerean



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, M/M, So much angst, parental angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerean/pseuds/ellerean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the dead of winter when Haru appeared at the Matsuoka home, wearing a snow-damp sweater and tears frozen on his cheeks. "Don't tell me you love this boy," his mother had said, before he'd packed a bag and ran across town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shame

**Author's Note:**

> There's a _lot_ parental intolerance regarding sexuality here, so tread lightly. Just in case ♥

He’d never visited Rin’s house, though he’d memorized the address long ago. Before Australia; before their reunion; before they’d started dating. Haru had looked it up in the telephone directory, marking its place on the map, but had never gathered the courage to walk across town to see it.

Now, he stood on the sidewalk and clutched his schoolbag. There was room enough inside to shove one change of clothes—he was foolishly optimistic. The snow swirled around him, and he wished he’d at least grabbed a coat before bolting from the house.

 

_“Who is this boy in this photo with you?”_

_“Hmm? You remember Rin, Mom.”_

 

He knocked on the door, knuckles white and frozen, the wet snow soaking into his sweater. He breathed a sigh of relief when footsteps padded to the door, when the threshold was illuminated by the light within.

“Haruka-senpai?”

Haru’s red-rimmed eyes and runny nose were hard to miss, though Gou mistook them for his frigid body temperature. She quickly pulled him inside.

“Onii-chan, it’s for you!”

She had wrapped a throw blanket around Haru’s shoulders by the time Rin appeared. He stopped short at the shivering boy in the foyer as Gou sidestepped around him, reluctantly escaping back upstairs—probably to spy from above.

“Haru? What’s going on?”

 

_“He seems awfully comfortable with you.”_

_“That’s because we’re . . . um . . . we’re going out.”_

 

When he didn’t reply, it took Rin only two long strides to embrace him. Haru tucked his head beneath Rin’s chin, pressing his tear-stained face to his chest. He gripped the blanket tighter and shivered.

“Rin, honey? Who is it?”

Haru leaped backward when Rin’s mother emerged from the kitchen. He’d never met her before, but she was just how he’d imagined—tall, with fire-red hair and sharp features, like her son. She had tied an apron around slacks and a blouse; a dusting of flour was smeared on her cheek.

Rin didn’t have a chance to reply before she rushed into the foyer. “If it isn’t Haru!”

Haru was pressed to the door, as far away from Rin as possible. He gripped the strap of his schoolbag in both hands. She hadn’t missed their embrace—Rin still hovered, mortified that Haru had jumped away—and she certainly hadn’t missed his tear-stained face.

“Oh, Haru.” She fished a tissue from the pocket of her apron.

Rin stared, bewildered, as she dried the corners of Haru’s eyes. He hadn’t known he was crying again; or, rather, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever stopped.

“Tell me what happened,” she said.

 

_“Haruka, this isn’t natural.”_

_“But—”_

_“I hope it hasn’t gone too far.”_

Rin’s mom had made dinner. Haru sat at the table with the family, wearing too many layers (He loved Rin’s scent on the sweatshirt he’d provided), leaned over a bowl of beef stew. He didn’t care much for meat, but it was food, and it was hot.

Haru praised the meal, satisfied to feel _something_ burning in his stomach. Gou was staring into her bowl, pushing around the food and not eating. Rin remained silent. Their mother sat across from Haru, watching, making sure he was eating enough.

“I can’t go back,” Haru said quietly, stirring his stew.

“You’ll stay here tonight,” she said. “I’ll give your mom a ring and let her know.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Please don’t.”

They watched a movie before bed. Haru occupied the armchair by himself, huddled beneath a mound of blankets. Gou made lavender tea, and the cup felt good between his still-cold hands. Haru didn’t pay much attention to the film. He cast longing glances at Rin across the room, on the rare occasion Rin wasn’t looking at him. Of course he wanted to be on that couch, curled into Rin’s side, absorbing his body heat. Haru stared into his tea, conscious of every time one of the girls peeked over, as if checking up on him. He didn’t mind too much.

Rin’s mom drew a bath for him. He couldn’t know whether she understood his affinity for the tub, or if it was a mere gesture of kindness, but he bowed to her in gratitude. She grasped his shoulder before leaving, closing the bathroom door behind her.

 He soaked longer than usual. When the bathwater became lukewarm and stagnant, he drained some to refill it with scalding water. Someone knocked on the door. Haru closed his knees and sunk down farther before permitting entrance.

“Hey,” Rin said. He sat on the floor beside the tub, reaching for Haru’s hand beneath the water. He traced Haru’s fingers, kissing them lightly before holding tight. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He leaned his head on Haru’s damp hair. “I’m sorry for this shitty situation.”

Haru tentatively touched his face, brushing the hair from his forehead. “I like your mom,” he said.

“Yeah.” Rin smiled. “She’s all right.”

Only Rin could get him out of the tub. Haru stood in the draining water as Rin wrapped an oversized towel around his body. Rin cupped his face, staring into his bloodshot eyes before softly kissing his cheek.

_“Don’t tell me you love this boy.”_

 

Rin loaned him something to sleep in. Haru hadn’t considered sleepwear in his rush to get out. The sweatpants were slightly too big, and the T-shirt was stretched out around the shoulders, but it was perfect. Haru stood in the upstairs hallway, waiting for instructions on where to sleep. Gou came out of her room to hug him, wishing him goodnight. Their mom skipped up the stairs, kissing his cheek before retiring to her own room. When Rin emerged from the bathroom, he took Haru’s hand and guided him to his bedroom.

“Are you sure?” Haru asked, as Rin closed the door.

“It’s not like we’re having sex or anything.”

Haru stared at the floor. “It’s not that.”

“I know. Hey.” Rin held Haru’s shoulders, willing him to look up. “It’s okay, all right? I thought Mom would set you up downstairs, but she said you’ll stay with me.” He smirked. “Like I’m going to argue.”

Haru trembled as he slipped beneath the covers; Rin engulfed him in his arms before he’d settled in. Haru nuzzled his shoulder, comfortable and warm, then pressed his face to his shirt and cried.

“Shh.” Rin stroked his hair. “Shh.” He bit down on his lip so his own tears wouldn’t fall. Haru knew what that felt like—watching the other cry, defenseless, unable to provide comfort. But Rin’s fingers through his hair and his lips on his forehead were comfort enough.

“How can you cry all the time?” Haru asked, wiping his cheeks on Rin’s shoulder. “It’s tiring.”

“Shut up.” Rin held him tighter.

 

* * *

 

This wasn’t what she’d wanted for her children’s winter break. The three of them had been content enough when she’d left, playing a card game as they huddled around the kotatsu. At least the boys sat next to each other. It meant that Haru was feeling better, at least well enough to touch her son in front of others.

They thought she’d gone to work. The snow was falling harder; she cursed the fact that Haru had walked in the cold the previous night. Matsuoka parked at the bottom of the shrine and sighed. It was a long way to the top, and she wasn’t in the mood for the climb.

The snow had stuck but it was a light snow, and she kicked it off the steps as she ascended. Nanase took a long time to answer the door. Even when she did, confliction was written all over her face. They had never met, but Matsuoka’s identity had to be obvious—her boy was her spitting image. After a lengthy hesitation, in which neither of them spoke, Nanase’s hospitality won over her displeasure.

“Matsuoka-san,” Nanase said, walking into the house. “I assumed Haruka had gone to see you.”

“I offered to call,” Matsuoka said, closing the front door, “but he was vehemently against it.”

She looked over her shoulder. “And you trust the reasoning of a boy over your own motherly instinct?”

Matsuoka winced. She followed Nanase into the kitchen, where she started to prepare tea. She didn’t want to fight, but her blood simmered like the water in the kettle. “Forgive me,” she said, keeping her voice even, “but they’re young men, Nanase-san. They’re capable of making their own decisions.”

“Hmm.” She kept her back to her guest as she tapped tea into the infuser. Matsuoka watched, leaned against the wall. Nanase’s hands shook as she closed the tin and placed the tea back into the cabinet. She stared into the teapot as if studying the leaves, waiting for the water to boil. “You may wait inside,” she said, dismissing Matsuoka from the kitchen.

The main room was sparsely decorated, obviously done by someone who didn’t care for frivolities—Haru, of course. The most prominent display sat on a low shelf, bearing a framed photograph of a children’s relay team and what she assumed to be their winning trophy. Matsuoka held the photograph in both hands, staring at the two boys front and center. It had been easy to forget Rin’s old smile, but the memories rushed back like a flood. He was almost that happy again—coming home one day, nervous as all hell to admit he was seeing someone.

 

_“Well, uh, it’s a guy, Mom.”_

_“Does he make you happy?”_

_“Yeah. . . . Yeah, he does.”_

She had almost missed the more recent photograph, the incriminating evidence. It was lying on a lower shelf face-down, like someone hadn’t had the time—or the desire—to hide it. Matsuoka smiled at the framed photo of the boys, both in their school uniforms, both smiling. Rin’s arms were around his boyfriend, squeezing around the waist, as Haru looked at him fondly.

When Nanase entered the room, Matsuoka quickly put it back.

“I’m trying to understand,” Nanase said, eyeing the hidden frame as she set the tea tray on the table.

“Why wouldn’t you talk to him?” Matsuoka replied, sitting at the table. Nanase poured them tea. “Kicking him out doesn’t help to understand anything.”

“Kick him out?” She sat across the table. “He left on his own.”

Matsuoka stared at the shelf, at the edge of the face-down frame. “Forgive me for being blunt—but if you really tried to understand, then your boy wouldn’t have showed up at my door crying.”

She had wanted Nanase to react. She watched for a flicker of her eyes, or a trembling hand as he picked up her teacup. But there was nothing—she slowly lifted the cup to her lips, but didn’t meet Matsuoka’s eyes. “You said they’re capable of making their own decisions? That was his decision.”

Matsuoka snorted. “You can’t pick and choose like that.”

 

_“You’re saying you don’t care that I’m . . . gay?”_

_“Honey, you act like this is a big surprise.”_

_“What is_ that _supposed to mean?!”_

She wasn’t certain what she intended to accomplish from her visit. Nanase wasn’t budging—despite a supposed desire to understand, she asked nothing. She seemed unconcerned. It wasn’t until they’d finished their tea that she said, “I’ll have to discuss this with my husband.”

Matsuoka clenched her fists under the table. The comebacks pounded in her head— _Beats having to think for yourself. How nice to have that option_ —but instead she stood from the table, knees knocking the edge and rattling the teacups.

“Matsuoka-san? Is something the matter?”

She forced a smile. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to visit Haruka-san’s room. He needs more clothes if he’s to stay at my house.”

“I didn’t permit that,” Nanase replied, hastily rising.

“I hate to break it to you,” she said, “but that’s what’s happening, whether he has your blessing or not.”

Nanase didn’t stop her from going upstairs. It didn’t take a genius to figure out which room was Haru’s—equally sparse as the rest of the house, with only a poster of some aquatic animal on the wall. She pulled a suitcase from his closet, tossing in whatever would fit. He didn’t have a lot of underwear—mostly swimsuits—so she packed those, too. Rin’s school photo sat framed on the desk, which she padded between the clothes.

Matsuoka wasn’t thinking. Her skin was on fire, her limbs shaking in anger as she overstuffed the suitcase. Anything he needed—toiletries, books, whatever was on his desk—went into the suitcase. His cell phone sat on his dresser. _No missed calls_ , she thought, angrily shoving it into her pocket.

Nanase stood at the bottom of the stairs as she descended, clunking the suitcase behind her. “Thanks for the tea,” Matsuoka gritted through her teeth.

“Perhaps we can talk about this—”

“Yeah, let me know when your _husband_ is home.” She quickly bowed before throwing open the front door.

 

“Mom?” Rin’s head shot up when she burst through the door, dragging the suitcase behind her. “Why are you home early?” Matsuoka dropped the suitcase beside the kotatsu, and Haru’s eyes went wide.

“You didn’t . . .” Haru began.

“I’m sorry, Haru.” She plopped down at the table, reaching for the bowl of chips in the center. “I probably fucked things up, but I couldn’t do _nothing_.”

He blinked at the suitcase, hesitating before reaching into the front pocket. It was like he needed confirmation that it was _his_ , that the book he pulled out was his own. He stared at its bookmark, an old receipt from Sports Zero.

Matsuoka hadn’t expected him to react. She _certainly_ hadn’t expected him to hug her, to grip her shoulders and nearly crawl into her lap. She looked pleadingly at Rin over his head. Rin only gawked, staring between Haru and the suitcase and his sister. Gou inched away from the table, but Rin grabbed her wrist hard to make her stay.

Rin effortlessly carried Haru’s suitcase to his room. Haru’s presence didn’t make much difference in the house—he didn’t talk a lot, and he helped with household chores. He had disappeared briefly in the evening, returning with bags from the grocer. He insisted on making dinner, though Rin warned his mother that it would be mackerel.

“What’s wrong with that?” she whispered, as Haru bustled around the kitchen.

“But he eats it _every day_.”

It was obvious that the boy was quiet—Rin needed someone like that to counterbalance him—but when he’d break into a grin, Matsuoka marveled at how happy it made her son. Rin, in turn, would tease him, banter with him over something trivial or poke him in the side. Haru pretended to be offended.

He was a good cook. He’d stir-fried the mackerel with vegetables, which even Rin heaped onto his plate. Haru looked to Rin’s mom during dinner, as if seeking approval, and she smiled as she nodded. He flushed, pushing another piece of mackerel into his mouth.

“You’re going to work tomorrow, right?” Rin said, pointing his chopsticks at his mother. “No more sneaking around?”

“ _Someone’s_ got to make some money around here,” she said with a laugh.

She insisted on another movie that night. Not that she _cared_ about the movie, but it gave her an excuse to watch them undetected. She was pleased that Haru sat beside Rin, cuddled beneath their shared blanket. Even Gou watched them more than the film, sneaking knowing glances at her mother.

They _were_ happy. Haru was the only one who watched the movie—even Rin paid more attention to Haru than what happened on-screen.

 

_“I’ll have to discuss this with my husband.”_

 

Matsuoka tried not to think of the conversation. She caught Rin pecking Haru’s lips in the dark, when he thought no one was looking. She tried to forget the obvious disdain in Nanase’s expression. _Screw them all_ , she thought, curling into herself. _He can stay here as long as he wants._


	2. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the dead of winter when Haru appeared at the Matsuoka home, wearing a snow-damp sweater and tears frozen on his cheeks. "Don't tell me you love this boy," his mother had said, before he'd packed a bag and ran across town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all _so much_ for the positive feedback on this. Also, [WE HAVE FANART](http://letsswimtogethernanase.tumblr.com/post/72557997231). I am overwhelmed.

In the three days since he’d become a member of the Matsuoka household, Haru hadn’t slept through the night. Subtle noises were magnified in his ears: Rin’s soft breathing beside him, the faint ticking of his watch on the headboard. Haru slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Rin, and crept to the bathroom.

As he filled the tub, the moon shone bright through the single window—he didn’t even need a light. Haru closed his eyes, sinking into the water to his neck. Rin’s mom had grabbed his cell phone from home, though Haru hadn’t seen the point—it wasn’t like his mother had called. Rin urged him to contact Makoto, at least, in case he was worried. Haru hadn’t provided any details; he just said he’d be at Rin’s for a few days.

He kept the phone on, though the only one who’d call was the one whose bed he shared.

 

_“Haruka, this isn’t natural.”_

 

He wished he’d seen her expression when Rin’s mom showed up. _What did they talk about?_ he thought, leaning back on the tub’s edge. He didn’t think his mom would offer anything. Her disgust had been more than obvious when he’d left.

 

_“Don’t tell me you love this boy.”_

 

“Haru?”

He wasn’t surprised that Rin’s mom was awake. She poked her head in, holding her bathrobe closed with one hand.

“It everything all right?” she asked.

“Just taking a bath.”

She glanced toward Rin’s room, mouth open like she’d say something more, but simply nodded. “Don’t stay in too long,” she said instead, quietly sliding the door shut.

When he finally fell asleep around four o’clock, he didn’t wake until long past dawn. He rolled onto Rin’s side of the bed, empty and cold, blinking against the sunlight. He shivered when he forced himself to get up, but that wasn’t the only reason he pulled on Rin’s sweatshirt. He buried his nose in the warm fabric and breathed in deep.

“Yo.” Rin peered over the newspaper as Haru shuffled into the kitchen, yawning. “Look who’s up.”

Rin lounged with his feet on a chair, drinking lukewarm coffee while he read the sports section. Gou was out sledding with some friends, and their mother had gone to work, leaving Rin to make them breakfast. He slid an envelope across the table as Haru sat to eat.

“What’s this?” he asked, but immediately recognized his mother’s handwriting. “She wrote a _letter_?” He scowled and pushed it away.

Rin wanted to go for a run, but Haru immediately shot him down. “It’s cold,” he whined, but couldn’t deny that doing any mundane thing with Rin at that moment—cold weather or not—had a certain appeal. He abandoned his breakfast, despite his growling stomach, and reluctantly agreed that the fresh air would do them good.

Rin’s workout clothes fit him well enough. He pulled on a hat and zipped up the jacket, rubbing his hands together as they went outside. Rin jogged in place, waiting for Haru to close the door.

“C’mon, Haru.”

He tried to keep focused on their path as they ran, not on Rin close beside him. They jogged down to the railroad tracks, following them in the direction of the old swim club. Haru’s face was frozen but, he hated to admit, Rin was right—his skin was warm beneath the jacket, his cheeks pink as he panted. When they reached a paved road, they turned onto it and jogged back in the direction of the ocean.

Haru smelled the salty air before the ocean came into view. It was colder near the water, but the air felt good whipping against his sweat-drenched body. Rin led them down to the harbor, where they ran until they reached the water’s edge.

“ _Haru_ ,” he said, playfully tugging his sleeve. “You can’t go in.”

“I know that,” he muttered, staring longingly at the sea.

There were few boats in the harbor, and even fewer people. Rin and Haru collapsed onto a bench, sitting close but not touching. They watched a fisherman hose down his vessel, the only one who braved the weather.

Haru wanted to sit closer. He wanted Rin to touch him, to put an arm around his shoulders and kiss his frozen, sweaty face. He thought of the envelope lying on the breakfast table. Part of him didn’t want to know what it contained. Rin rested an arm across the back of the bench; feeling its slight pressure was the most Haru could handle in public.

“Let’s run away,” Haru said, staring at the ocean.

“Yeah? Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere. Somewhere people don’t care.”

It was part relief, part fear, when Rin’s fingers grazed his shoulder, sending a shudder down Haru’s spine. “Hate to break it to you, lover boy, but people care everywhere.”

He stared at Rin’s hand on his shoulder. “My mom said it was unnatural.”

“Look at me, Haru.” Rin turned sideways on the bench, though it was a long time before Haru did the same. Rin’s cheeks were tinged pink; Haru couldn’t know if it was from the cold or from anger. “What do _you_ feel?” he asked.

“What?”

Rin grabbed his hands, firmly holding them in both of his. Haru tried to break away, panicked that others could see them, but Rin pulled him back. “Does this feel unnatural to you?”

Haru watched Rin’s thumb disappear into the cuff of his jacket, felt the slow circles he drew on his naked wrist. He slid up farther, stroking the inside of his arm. Haru finally looked up. Rin’s eyes were like fire, burning despite the snow. He leaned in like they would kiss, but stopped before their noses touched.

“No,” Haru murmured, his breath a white puff of air. “I don’t know why it matters.”

“Because it _doesn’t_. I love you, Haru, and fuck anyone who doesn’t get that.”

It was the first time he’d said it. Rin had blurted it naturally; he wasn’t even phased by the sudden declaration. He held tighter to Haru’s arm beneath his sleeve, crushing his bones. “I love you, too,” Haru whispered, pulling him into a hug.

He didn’t care about the letter. He didn’t care about home. Haru buried his face in Rin’s neck, gripping his jacket as Rin kissed the top of his head.

“Let’s run by my house,” Haru said.

“Huh? _Why?_ ”

He wouldn’t explain. Rin followed anyway, jogging through the mountain pass that overlooked the ocean. The path was deserted save for them. When Haru stopped to stare at the water, Rin hugged him from behind and nuzzled his neck. Haru twisted around to kiss him. Their faces were frozen but their lips warm, their hands slipping beneath the other’s jacket.

By the time they reached Haru’s house, they were both exhausted as they trudged up the steps.

“I’ll be quick,” Haru said, and Rin willingly waited outside.

It should have felt like home. It should have been _his_ , but there were suitcases and foreign shoes piled in the foyer. He took a deep breath. At least it _smelled_ familiar, though there was something buried beneath the lingering scent of mackerel. _My parents_ , he thought, heading for the main room.

“Who’s there?” said a voice from upstairs.

Haru didn’t answer. He bolted for the shelf, sighing in relief to find the frame still there—face-down, on the lowest shelf near the floor, but there. He hugged it firmly and ignored the footsteps overhead as he rushed back outside.

“We didn’t have to come all the way here for _that_ ,” Rin said, when he approached. Haru said nothing, hugging it protectively. “And they’re watching,” he added, glancing at an upper window.

Haru grabbed Rin’s hand, kissing his cheek before they descended the stairs. He didn’t turn to look.

They were frozen by the time they returned. Haru drew a bath as Rin positioned the frame in the hallway, right at the top of the stairs. The tub was a tight fit for them both, but their bodies were warmed by the hot water and their mutual embrace. Haru squeezed his legs around Rin, a tangle of limbs in the small bathtub. They kissed, softly at first, increasingly eager as they molded around each other. Rin whimpered, his nails scraping Haru’s back as he pulled him closer.

Haru forgot about the envelope until Rin’s mom came home. “Haru, you have mail,” she said, like it was natural for him to receive letters at their address.

Rin didn’t follow Haru when he took it upstairs. He sat on Rin’s bed as he opened the envelope, staring at his name a long time before proceeding.

 

_Haruka,_

_It was never my intention for you to leave. I’m sorry if you misunderstood. The news of your homosexuality came as a shock, and I should have tried to be more understanding._

“She’s so blunt,” he muttered.

 

_Your father is here now. Come home so we can talk. Letters are so informal, but you never pick up your phone._

He could read between the lines well enough—she didn’t want to visit the Matsuoka home; she had no desire to meet his illicit boyfriend.

 

_I’ve explained the situation to your father, and we can all discuss this like responsible adults. You must know that Rin-kun’s mother came to see me. She was right in one regard—you are a young man, and you are independent. We’ve raised you right, and we’re proud of you. But_

The paper crinkled in his fists. After every parental praise there was retribution. Shame. He swallowed hard.

 

_But this is one matter we cannot overlook. Your father is confident that we will get through this, and we’ll introduce you to a nice girl_

Haru balled up the letter and hurled it across the room. He pulled his feet onto the bed, hiding his face in his folded knees. After a while, when he didn’t reemerge, someone came pounding up the stairs. Rin entered the room—he recognized his footsteps alone—and he heard the soft crinkle of paper as he unfolded the letter.

“I think you should write back,” Rin said as he crumpled it again. “Just a big ‘fuck you’ would work.”

“Rin . . .”

Immediately he was on the bed, pulling Haru onto his lap. Haru couldn’t cry; Rin cradled him like a child, rubbing his back and kissing his forehead. His mom appeared in the doorway soon after.

“Do I want to read it?” she asked.

“No,” Rin barked, eyeing the balled-up letter on the floor. “They’re being assholes.”

“Boys, listen to me.” She sat on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath their combined weight. “I know this sucks. Haru, your parents. . . . It’s hard for them, too. They want for you what made _them_ happy. They want you to marry a nice girl and pop out some grandbabies.”

“ _You’re_ not like that,” Haru said. He slid off Rin’s lap, but wouldn’t release his hand.

“No, things are different for me. They _have_ been since. . . . Well.” Haru looked away. “It’ll be tough for a while. They’ll probably try to set you up with a bunch of boring girls. But you’ve got to put up with it, because they’re your parents. At least until you go to university.” She grinned. “And when it gets rough, come over here. The gods know this room isn’t used, with a useless son who never visits.”

_“Mom.”_

Rin’s mom was hard around the edges, but her expression softened when she looked at Haru—just like her son did. It made him comfortable enough to cross the bed, falling into her open arms. Rin held to the hem of Haru’s shirt, a silent refusal to hand him over.

“Thank you,” Haru said.

She went down to make dinner, claiming they needed their alone time. The moment her footsteps faded down the stairs Rin smirked, pinning Haru to the mattress. They kissed slowly, roping their arms around each other and playing with the hem of the other’s shirt. The letter lay abandoned on the floor, a crumpled, illegible mess.

Rin flopped onto his back and grasped Haru’s hand to his chest. The scent of fish drifted from downstairs as Haru huddled to his side. “No way,” Rin said, scrunching his nose. “Like hell am I going to eat mackerel every day _here_ , too.”

Haru kissed his jaw. “Think your mom is right?”

“She usually is. Unfortunately.” Rin propped himself up on his elbows. “But remember what we talked about—it doesn’t matter, all right? You’ve got me. And you’ve got the rest of the Matsuoka clan, whether you want them or not.”

Haru tilted Rin’s face toward him to kiss him again.

 

* * *

 

 

She didn’t _intend_ to eavesdrop on the boys. It had become routine to check on them late at night, like she had when her children were young. It had been many years since Matsuoka had watched Rin sleep, and his habits hadn’t changed—he still sprawled across the bed, drooling slightly with his mouth hanging open. Haru, at least, required little space beside him.

Sometimes Haru wouldn’t be there, but this no longer worried her. The slight ripple of water from the bathroom confirmed that he was in the tub, again, in the dark. But when the bathroom door stood wide open, and neither of them were in Rin’s bed, the panic rose in her chest.

 _They wouldn’t run away without telling me,_ she thought, rushing down the hall. She glanced at the shelf by the stairs, pleased to see the photo still there. She paused to admire it, running a finger along the top of the frame and down Rin’s photographic cheek. She’d have to find a good place for it downstairs, but first she had to find _them_.

But she paused halfway down the stairs, hearing a faint murmur of voices from the living room. She peeked in. They sat cross-legged beside the kotatsu, facing each other, a single candlestick flickering on the tabletop. Haru’s back was to her—she cursed her poor angle—but it was easy enough to see Rin lifting Haru’s hands to kiss them.

She glanced upstairs. Gou hadn’t heard her moving around; she was likely still asleep. Matsuoka sat on the stairs, just out of view, promising herself that she wouldn’t stay long.

“I’ll never leave you,” Rin was saying. He was never very good at whispering, though the gods knew he tried. “I’ll be there for your good times, and I’ll stick by you when things are tough.” He pressed their forehead together, gripping Haru’s hands. “God, Haru. I spent too long away from you. I never want to do that again.”

She assumed Haru had tried to say something, but Rin pressed a finger to his lips.

“I love you, Haru. And if this is the only way we can share that, then fine. Even if we can never be together by law, _we_ know. I don’t care about them.”

Matsuoka clapped a hand over her mouth when Rin pulled a small, velvet box from his sweatshirt pocket. _When did_ this _happen?_ she thought, as he flipped the top open. Even from her distant view, she could see Haru’s left hand tremble as he held it out. Rin fumbled the simple band, cursing in English as he patted the floor trying to find it. She tried to contain her giggles when he jammed the ring onto Haru’s finger.

She silently snuck back upstairs when Haru procured his own small box.

By morning, they had transferred the rings to chains hidden beneath their shirts. But that didn’t prevent Gou from calling her at work midday, whispering like she didn’t want to be overheard.

“Mom,” Gou said, “Onii-chan and Haruka-senpai are wearing matching jewelry.”

“And you still insist on calling him ‘senpai’?”

Matsuoka had looked up the Nanase’s phone number, staring at the sticky note affixed to her monitor all afternoon. When she finally dialed, she prayed that they wouldn’t pick up and she could just leave a message.

“Nanase residence,” the woman answered.

“Hi,” she said, leaning back to push her office door closed. “It’s Matsuoka.”

“is Haruka all right?” she immediately asked.

 

_“I spent too long away from you. I never want to do that again.”_

 

“He’s fine,” Matsuoka replied. “That’s . . . that’s the reason I’ve called. To let you know he’s fine. Also”—she grit her teeth—“please talk with him.”

“I’ve tried,” she said, her voice small.

“No, you wrote him a _letter_.” She had wanted to remain civil, but the words flowed before she could stop them. “It’s insulting. You may not acknowledge their relationship, but to suggest setting him up with some _girl_ is disrespectful to both my son and to me.”

Nanase fell silent. Of _course_ Matsuoka had read the letter, after Rin thought he’d safely discarded it in the trash.

“What do you want me to do?” Nanase asked.

“Come for dinner. I’m not looking to change your mind, but at least recognize what they have and see it for yourself.”

 

 _“Even if we can never be together by law,_ we _know.”_

 

She bought a cake at the bakery before going home. She claimed it was for no reason at all, but Rin glared when she passed him the knife to cut it. The ring escaped from its hiding spot when he leaned over the table, but he didn’t bother tucking it back into his shirt. Gou bounced in her chair, trying to catch her mother’s eye, but she could only smile as Rin slid the first piece to Haru. She opted not to mention the dinner invitation. Not now, not when they were happy. She wasn’t even certain they would accept.

Rin later cornered her in the upstairs hall, while he waited for Haru to get out of the bath. “I know you were listening,” he whispered, twisting the chain around his neck. He didn’t protest when she reached for it—she weighed the ring in her hand, studying it against the light. It was simple, stainless steel, with a faint silver inlay curled around it. Matsuoka gently tugged down the chain until she reached the clasp. Rin only watched as she slipped the ring off, then pressed it into his palm.

He briefly held it to the light before slipping it onto his finger. “You think it’s stupid.”

“No,” she said, twisting her own ring. “I think you’re in love.”

As a mother, she should have warned him: _Don’t get attached. Don’t get too serious._ She knew how young love could bite you in the ass. But she saw his delight when Haru emerged from the bathroom, staring at them skeptically as he towel-dried his hair. He still wore Rin’s too-big pajamas, despite now having his own from home. She nudged Rin toward him, as if he needed an excuse to wrap an arm around his boyfriend’s waist.

“You never know how long you have,” she whispered, as they disappeared into his bedroom.

She eyed the photograph on the small table. She was still standing there, the unshed tears filling her heart, when Gou came skipping up the stairs.

“Mom?” she asked, peering at the table. “What are you doing?”

Gou pressed to her mother’s side as Matsuoka lifted the frame, carefully, admiring the boys again before cradling it to her chest. “C’mon. Let’s go find a spot for this downstairs.”


	3. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was the dead of winter when Haru appeared at the Matsuoka home, wearing a snow-damp sweater and tears frozen on his cheeks. "Don't tell me you love this boy," his mother had said, before he'd packed a bag and ran across town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Guys_. I was supposed to be finished with this. But enough people have requested a proper conclusion, and once the idea stuck in my head there was no denying that we needed resolution.

Haru had grown accustomed to seeing their photo in the living room. Rin’s mom didn’t mess around—if it wasn’t for the small shrine to his father, they’d have dominance over the room. Instead the framed photo sat on a small, low table at the room’s entrance, in clear view of anyone who peeked inside.

He was surprised it still sat there when his parents came for dinner. Rin had pulled him upstairs right before their arrival, locking them in his bedroom. He knew that Gou shuffled around outside the door, probably trying to eavesdrop, but they didn’t say anything—they only sat on the bed, Haru’s head cradled in the crook of Rin’s shoulder. Rin kissed his forehead, stroking his hair, as if the motions alone could calm his nerves.

They heard when Rin’s mom greeted her guests. She was too overeager, too loud in her welcome. The image of their parents together was laughable—Haru’s parents, calm and conservative in their muted colors, and Rin’s mom. She’d swept her hair into an updo, wore a burgundy dress that brought out her eyes. At least Gou had talked her out of heels.

Rin held his hand as they crouched on the upstairs landing, trying to listen in on the conversation in the living room. They watched Gou pass from the kitchen with a tea tray. Introductions were provided; Gou’s chipper voice was strained. She was upstairs with them in an instant.

“What’s going on?” Rin whispered, as she sat beside him.

“Nothing!” She pouted. “I didn’t hear _anything_.”

While Rin and Haru had started wearing their promise rings around the house, they were now tucked beneath their collars again. Haru touched the small bump right below his throat, a new nervous habit. Without looking, Rin took that hand to press it to his lips, closing his eyes when his mom called them down for dinner.

Haru refused to enter the kitchen the same time at Rin. Rin could only stare at him from the doorway, and it hurt more that he wasn’t pissed off—he quickly ducked out of view to stroke Haru’s cheek, to brush his lips. He still held to Haru’s hand when he walked away, their arms stretched taut until they no longer touched.

But Gou had already arranged for them to sit beside each other. Rin held hands with Haru and Gou as their mother said the prayer, and didn’t release Haru's until the food was served.

Haru couldn’t look at his parents. He focused instead on his salmon, picking off bite-size pieces with his chopsticks. At least the weather gave them a solid topic of conversation—it had snowed again, and the adults found plenty to discuss regarding difficulties with the cold.

“I hope it snows right before we have to go back to school,” Gou said. “Maybe we’ll have a snow day!” The adults were amused enough, and even Rin cracked a smile.

“Does anyone want more snap peas?” Rin’s mom asked, and Haru’s dad graciously accepted the bowl. Haru took it from Rin as it passed around, their hands brushing in the exchange. Rin’s eyes flashed when Haru looked up—the first time they’d locked eyes during the meal—and though Haru spied his parents’ cold expressions in his peripheral vision, he couldn’t look away. Rin tilted his head slightly, as if to kiss him, but hastily pulled his hands away instead.

Haru knew there was cake—he’d smelled the chocolate as it baked that afternoon—but Rin’s mom wasn’t offering it yet. “Why don’t you guys hang out in the living room a bit?” she said, looking to Haru and her children. “Let it digest.”

Matsuokas weren’t known for being subtle, and this was an obvious ploy to kick them out. They didn’t get as far as the living room—the three of them huddled outside the kitchen, shushing each other as the parents began to speak.

“I just don’t understand,” Haru’s mom was saying. “This is not how we were raised.”

“The world is changing, Nanase,” Rin’s mom said. “You’d have to be blind to—”

“I don’t see it,” Haru’s mom interrupted. “It was all you could talk about: to see it for myself!”

“Because they were terrified! Would it kill you to _smile_?”

They didn’t dare peek into the kitchen. Haru feared most that his father wasn’t speaking. But he could picture his reaction—his lack of reaction, his boredom at listening to women squabble. Haru slumped to the wall and slid to the floor. Rin and Gou immediately joined him, each taking one of his hands. Rin’s lips lingered on his cheek.

Matsuoka’s voice grew lower each time she spoke, a stark contrast to Nanase’s cold indifference. He’d had enough—Haru grunted as he pulled his hands from them both, stumbling as he rose from the floor.

“Haru,” Rin whispered, quickly rising beside him.

Haru jerked at his necklace, fumbling with the clasp and forcing the ring onto his shaking finger. Rin didn’t have to ask—he did the same, his sister staring at them in awe.

“What are you doing?” Gou hissed, as Haru pulled Rin into the kitchen.

The parents immediately fell silent. Rin’s mom stared wide-eyed; Haru’s parents skidded back in their chairs, as if they would attack. But Haru did nothing—he inclined his head as he approached the table, clutching Rin’s hand.

“Haru,” his mom said, quietly, “what is this?”

“This”—he squeezed Rin’s hand so hard that he winced—“is my boyfriend.”

Rin’s mom massaged her temples. “Haru, please . . .”

Haru fought to maintain eye contact with his parents—the three of them hadn’t been together since his birthday seven month prior, and even that was a fleeting visit between his father’s business meetings. Now, he twisted his hand around Rin’s, lacing their fingers together to forge a tighter hold. “You’ve trusted me to live alone,” he said evenly. “I’ve never done anything wrong.” He looked to Rin who only stared back, his mouth hanging open. “Including this.”

It had been a struggle to look at parents but now, as he stared into Rin’s eyes, his gaze didn’t waver. Those eyes were liquid fire, the kindle of his flame. They burned his skin, the warmth rushing from his cheeks down the length of his body. Rin noticed the transfer—he grasped Haru’s other hand as the spark leaped between them, as the fire engulfed them both.

They leaned into the kiss at the same time.

Haru was vaguely aware of the commotion around them—of the sharp intake of breath from his mother; of his father’s footsteps pounding out of the kitchen; of Gou’s body slumping to the floor. They gripped each other’s hands, mouths opening to drink each other in, to breathe each other’s breath.

Rin had started to cry. Tears dripped down his cheeks, sliding between their entwined lips. Haru gripped his hands harder, coming alive with the water of Rin’s body.

Rin breathed hard when they broke apart. Haru wiped his cheeks, staining the cuff of his dress shirt with his tears. He kissed the corner of his eye like it was a private moment, like their mothers weren’t sitting at the table, gaping at them.

“I love you,” Rin mumbled, pressing his face to Haru’s neck.

Matsuoka was better at controlling her tears—they silently slid down her cheeks as her chin quivered, and she pressed a hand to her lips before she spoke. “Nanase.” Her voice cracked, unable to take her eyes from the boys. “Did I ever tell you about my husband?”

Rin stiffened. He inclined his head slightly, leaned on Haru’s shoulder to watch their mothers leave the kitchen. But then he suddenly stood up straight, feeling for the ring on his finger—still there—and looked from Haru to his sister on the floor.

“Gou,” he said, eyes wide. “I—”

“Shut up,” she said, brushing off her skirt as she stood. “Come on.” When they peered into the living room, both their mothers were kneeling before the shrine.

Haru had never seen any of them at the shrine. The accident was a long time ago, and the wounds probably weren’t as raw as they once were. But he felt like he was invading some secret Matsuoka ritual—while their mother bowed, Gou slipped her hand into her brother’s. As Haru stared at his own mother, who studied the large photograph of Rin’s dad, an arm snaked around his waist. Rin kissed his temple, and Haru felt for the ring on Rin’s finger—cool, metallic, solid.

Rin’s mom was sharing the story, a tale Rin and Gou probably knew by heart but Haru had only heard once—their father’s Olympic dreams, his sacrifice for his family, his accident on the water. When Rin’s arm trembled around him, Haru kissed his cheek.

Nanase looked at Matsuoka when she finished, as if regarding her for the first time. Even from across the room, in the waning sunlight, Haru could read a new emotion on his mother’s face—confliction, uncertainty.

“Our time here is too short,” Rin’s mom said. She glanced over her shoulder, smiling at the small band of bodies in the doorway. “Their happiness comes first.”

Haru’s mom glanced back, but immediately turned away. “Even if what they want is wrong?”

“Even if it means bending the rules to discern what’s right for yourself.”

They were silent for a long time. Haru’s mom folded her hands and bowed before the shrine, forehead nearly touching the floor. When she stood, she sought Haru first. Rin’s arm tightened around him as they stared at each other with similar vacant looks, neither wavering. Eventually she asked, “Where is your father?”

“I— I don’t know,” Haru stammered.

“He went outside,” Gou said in a small voice.

When his mother broke eye contract, Haru couldn’t figure out what she looked at—did she stare at the floor, or did she stare at Rin’s hand on his waist, at the glint of silver around his finger? But something changed in her expression—it wasn’t comforting nor welcoming, but it wasn’t stern. She nodded, hurrying past them and into the foyer, going outside without her shoes.

Haru’s parents had never lectured him before. They seemed conflicted, now, when they returned twenty minutes later. Gou had tried to peek out the window, but she could only gather that they were talking—not what was said. Haru didn’t want to know, anyway. He sat with Rin at the foot of the staircase, not even touching each other when his parents came back inside.

His father wasn’t outwardly angry, but he didn’t smile, either. His mom approached them on the stairs, slowly, as if considering how easily she could still turn and flee. But instead of confronting Haru, she stood before Rin.

Haru could swear he felt Rin’s pulse through the floorboards. His mom merely looked at him—at his hair, plastered to his forehead in a nervous sweat; at the crisp, black shirt adorned with the Samezuka logo. Rin had been nervously twisting his hands together but now they fell between his spread knees, knotted together, motionless.

“W-would you mind standing, Rin?” she asked.

He leaned on the railing as he stood, swallowing hard when he looked down to meet her eye. She may have smiled—it was hard to tell in the Nanase family—but there was no mistaking her arms around him, the firm yet cautious way she hugged him around the waist.

She pulled back before he could recuperate from the shock, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides. She cleared her throat, glancing at her husband as if for approval. To Haru’s surprised, he gave a slight nod. “I- I would like to get to know you,” she said, turning back to Rin.

He gripped the railing again, shuffling his feet, head bobbing in agreement. “That would be cool."

They’d forgotten about the cake. Rin’s mom broke into a fit of laughter once Haru’s parents went home, and it was contagious. She dropped the cake onto the kitchen table and her children scrabbled for a piece, even though there was more than enough to go around. Rin took the knife from Gou when her hands shook from laughing, though his attempt to cut it wasn’t faring much better.

“You’re all crazy,” Haru said, staring in disbelief.

“Get used to it, Haru,” Rin’s mom said, squeezing him around his shoulders. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

Rin sat as close as possible. He hoisted his legs onto Haru’s lap as he stuffed himself with cake. Haru rested a hand on his ankle as he accepted a piece himself, slipping a thumb beneath Rin’s pant leg to stroke his bare skin.

“By the way,” Rin’s mom said, pointing at them with a knife, “we could have done without the show.”

Haru flushed as he looked away but Rin only laughed, throwing an arm around Haru's shoulders.

He wasn’t certain when he’d go home. His parents would leave again, leaving the empty house to him. Even the Matsuoka home would be changing, with Rin soon returning to school. He squeezed Rin’s ankle, and Rin threw him a curious glance. But Haru’s smile was the only answer he needed. Rin leaned over, laying a hand on his cheek as he kissed his lips. The ring was cool against his skin, helping to tame the fire within. He touched Rin’s hand, threading their fingers together as he leaned into it. He hardly noticed when Rin’s mom and Gou tiptoed out of the kitchen. Rin kissed him again, slowly, tasting of tears and chocolate cake. And Haru knew—as if there had been any doubt—that he loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> ([Here](http://trapsandpecs.tumblr.com/post/72244851426) on tumblr.)


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